The Script & The Sherpa

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Meat Is Murder

Some girl comes up to Drama, who's holding the biggest fucking canister of power-up ripped-fuel protein steroid powder I've ever seen. He's all, "Hi there, sweetheart," because he obviously has experience trolling for babes at gyms, vitamin shows, and World's Strongest Man contests, and she's like, "Oh sorry, I thought you were someone else," and it's another blow to Drama, blah blah blah, and then she runs away. How very "first or second episode" of you, Entourage. Turtle's fighting with some chick that works there and she's basically telling him to fuck off because he was supposed to get her some weed two days ago. She has a weird accent like maybe she's Australian or had a stroke or something. Then he tells her that -- work with me here -- THE WHOLE TOWN IS DRY (meaning Los Angeles, see?) and there is NO POT IN THIS WORLD. She goes back to reading her magazine -- well, actually, looking at the pictures. All of a sudden she goes from Madonna-British to Ginger Spice-British as she all but licks a picture of...UGGS. I almost cry for this fucking show every week, I really do. Because I think you can get Uggs at Walgreens now? But anyway he's all, you know Turtle can hook you up, baby so Turtle calls Shauna to get the Uggs hookup for free and she's all, "Of course, because those haven't been cool for a year," and he's impressed and asks if she has a weed guy because THERE'S JUST NO POT ANYWHERE IN THE CITY OR THE WORLD. And I'm like, dude? It's Debi Mazar. She's got a guy that'll replace your blood with cherry 7-Up and make it look like an accident. There's a very "woke up in a tub of ice with a Post-it saying call 911" vibe about Debi sometimes.

Fiona comes out on the balcony where Eric is reading the weird naked script. As Biz Markie once asked, "Have you ever met a girl?" Well, I have, and let me tell you: they're just a little bit retarded. Every one of them. Well, not Debi Mazar, but she's kind of a guy. She's kind of the Betty Page lunchbox purse pinup version of Paula Poundstone. They paint her picture on the side of planes because she scares the enemy. And, of course, she's also the Key. Girls, though, they love for you to look at their naked asses, and even more so if you ask to see their naked asses after just having met them. Really they'd prefer to walk around naked, to be honest, and they're all size DD and have no sense of modesty whatsoever and the devil is in them, see? Eric and Fiona make small talk about how Eric's job is pointless, but so is she so she thinks it's cool. She's like the anti-Kristen. Heh. She too would like to shop and sit in golf carts for her whole job. "So did you go to school for that?" No. "I love to read. I read all the Harry Potter books, and I don't know, if you need a second opinion, don't hesitate." It's kind of more awesome that she actually means this. I mean, in terms of respect for people, and feminism and all that stuff we don't really understand yet, she's worse than the cast of Amish in the City, but in terms of a well-done joke, outside this show's blatant anti-woman context, it's cool. And you know what? Larry Sanders and Curb Your Larry David are both inveterate woman-hater shows about inveterate woman-haters. Even Carmela's an asshole in a particularly feminine way about two thirds of the time, and Carnivale and Deadwood apparently have whores for the most part. Well, to be fair, Carnivale also has comatose freak women and bearded women and Clea Duvall. And I know what you're thinking: Sex and the City, but honestly those aren't women so much as magic fantasy superhero woman costumes put on stereotypical squealing gay men to make them look like beautiful ladies (wearing hideous clothing). So it's across the board woman hating, then, for HBO. For every Iron-Jawed Angel, there's a husband-hating Hilary Whatever itching to bust out her fake dick to some anachronistic Lauryn Hill tunes. Anyway, so then Fiona drops her robe and jiggles into the pool and Eric is...intrigued. Second ass of the whole show, huh? Thank Christ this chick came out of nowhere to make Eric stop thinking about Josh Weinstein's taste in scripts.

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